King Arthur: Bloody Season's End
by M. Quilldragon
Summary: "Do you know the ancient Nord word for war? Season Unending!" So, the bloodletting continues. The rise and fall of Alduin could not unite the factions. A little cloak and dagger has the civil tearing Skyrim apart once more. Arthur pursues justice in the midst of this... while Hircine hunts him. The Dragonborn walks the line as he tries to reunite Skyrim to prepare for the future.
1. Chapter 1

Arthur couldn't drink his troubles away at the Bee n' Barb. The Velvet LaChance sliding down his throat only invigorated him. The success of drinks like this made his friend Talen-Jei Maven Blackbriar's new target. At that moment, Talen and Keerava, his wife to be, scurried about their tavern in the thick of the lunch rush. The smell of raw-fish and mead wafted around the room from several tables as most workers in the room came from either the docks or the Blackbriar Meadery. The mead made in Riften tasted water from the Ratway compared to the specialty drinks his friend made. You couldn't even get drunk to boot. Most workers left here refreshed. Their praise of Talen-Jei's drinks earned much to Maven's ire.

Despite her anger, she wouldn't touch them. She wouldn't touch him. _Who would touch the mighty Dovahkiin?_ Arthur sarcastically thought to himself. News of his victory over Alduin had spread through Skyrim like dragon fire. Almost a month had passed since his return from Sovngarde. The peace and joy of those golden halls seemed as distant as the stars. The bloodletting had renewed with the death of Vittoria Vici. Shortly thereafter, a plot to assassinate the emperor surface, originating with a Stormcloak commander. The same warrior denied such a plot, but this didn't forestall the new battles which ensued. As Skyrim tore itself apart once more, many looked to him to make things right, and he would. He would fight for the Empire, and he would serve justice.

At least, that's what Arthur hoped. His travels with the companions had shown the injustice his consequences had allowed. Markarth stood beneath the iron-thumb of the Silver-blood family, and the empire had its own counterpart here in Riften. That's why he was here: to start fixing his mistake, and ensure justice. He had to—

"Hey, you're doing it again," Aela remarkd curtly, elbowing Arthur's shoulder.

"Doing what?" he replied with feigned innocence. His shield-sister knew him so well. She removed her winged helmet as she shot him a knowing look. Her gauntlet covered hand rested on his shoulder. He still couldn't believe he got her to wear plate armor, but they practically weighed nothing, the Reforged Relics of the Crusader. He wore the original Relics, but he would soon turned those over to her. The bright, gold-trimmed armor of Pelinal Whitestrake had come to mark him as the Dragonborn. He would again leave his identity behind… at least for a time.

"You've had that blasted melancholy since the civil-war started again!" she exclaimed in a loud whisper. The wooden board creaked as she stood, the chair scuffing the floor beneath them, "Content yourself with the knowledge that your acting like a true warrior—you're taking action."

"It'll be one of my first adventure without you," Arthur commented glumly before forcing a smile, "but you're right. Today is a day to celebrate." He said the last sentence louder, flashing a genuine smile to Talen-Jei who smiled back.

Two hours later, Arthur, helmet donned, stood alone in the Temple of Mara. Talen-Jei would soon follow with Aela and the others. He surveyed the statue of Mara and chuckled. His mother look more beautiful than that. He touched his amulet which bore Mara's symbol while he laid his other hand on the stone shrine. He felt a familiar warmth wash over him, emanating from the altar. The small stone statue glowed faintly beneath his touch at the sound of his prayer.

"Mother Mara, preserve me and instruct me to love as you have loved me," Arthur's words came out as barely a whisper, but from his heart they bubbled over. Her love filled him, and whisper echoed in his mind.

 _My child…_ The words caressed his heart with the tenderness of a child holding its mother. As Arthur opened his eyes, hands falling to his sides, he realized that the altar continued to glow. Soft footsteps, drew the Dragonborn's attention as the priest of Mara approached. He was one of the few people who knew Arthur's real identity in the whole of Skyrim. Most Companions, except for those within the Circle knew him as the Dovahkiin and the Harbinger. The same went for Tullius, Ulfric, the Jarls and most of Skyrim. Only the Greybeards, Paarthurnax, Odahving, and a small number of others kew the man beneath the helm.

"I've haven't seen it do that before," Maramal commented with warm smile, "Then again, most of Mara's children don't bear the blood of her most beloved. Blessings of Mara upon you Arthur, welcome." The warrior embraced the priest who had just spread his hands in welcome, lifting the man. Setting the priest back down, Arthur stepped back as the priest lowered his hood.

"It's good to see you again, Maramal," Arthur greeted warmly, "Have you any news of Merlin?"

"The old dunmer," the priest corrected emphatically, "will meet you in Windhelm. Come now why don't you remove your helm."

"I require the same secrecy as our mutual friend, Nilrem," Arthur responded, "besides, the ceremony will start soon." A moment later, sunlight immediately dispelled shadows lingering in the dimly lit interior of the temple. Arthur's jumped momentarily to the stone shrine, and he smiled as it continued to glow. In the finest clothes he'd seen his scaly friend wear, Talen-Jei entered first. The bright yellow of the fabrics matched the scales going down from his neck to his chest and accented his green scales. Following close by, Keerava entered next in a green dress which complemented which matched Talen-Jei. Madesi entered in the usual clothes he wore while at the market. Aela entered last in her armor, helmet donned. Aela took a seat behind Arthur, her armor making no sound as she sat.

"Ah," Maramal began as he had a hundred times before, "the proud groom. Let us begin the ceremony." Madesi handed Keerava a small pouch, and Talen-Jei carried a small vial in his hand. The couple's feet padded across the floor as they neared the front and center of the chapel. As he passed, Talen-Jei leaned over and whispered to Arthur.

"Thank you for your help," Arthur nodded to his scaly friend's gratitude, "please meet me and Keerava after the ceremony." Arching his brow behind his helmet, Arthur nodded slowly. He hoped that there wouldn't be another attempt to pay him, though he wouldn't mind another flagon of Velvet LaChance.

"It is Mara who first gave birth to creation and promised to watch over us as her children," Arthur grinned wide behind his helmet. He didn't agree with the priest on his account of the Dawn Era, but Mara loved them both the same. Maramal continued through his marriage rhetoric Arthur leaned turned his head back to whisper something to Aela when Maramal said the following, "…eternal companionship. May they journey forth together in this life and the next, in prosperity and poverty, and in joy and hardship."

"Guess we've already done that, huh, shield-sister? Our adventures sound like marriage," Arthur gave Aela a knowing look from beneath his helm. An unseen smirk decorated his face to accompany it.

"Watch it, brother," Aela said with a quiet growl, only making eye contact with Arthur for a moment. He chuckled lightly, seeking to avoid drawing attention. Maramal then brought the ceremony to its climax.

"Do you both agree to be bound together in love now and forever?" Maramal demanded the argonian couple.

"Yes," they said as one, "both now and forever." The priest of Mara smiled. Simultaneously, The statue which glowed throughout the ceremony began to shined brighter for a moment.

"Under the authority of Mara, the Divine of Love, I declare this couple to be wed. Would the newly weds present their rings?" Talen-Jei shot Arthur another look of gratitude as he produced a golden band adorned with three polished amethysts. Keerava produced a similar ring, though her's was silver. Talen-Jei moved first, his the visible scales almost shining in the torchlight.

"May you flourish," he began as his cool, scaly hand touch that of his beloved, "like a the bough of a great hist tree stretching towards the heavens." He then slipped the golden ring onto her finger. Arthur's heart grew warm, and he understood why his mother cherished such. Keerava spoke next.

"May you grow strong," she slipped the silver ring she had gotten from Madesi onto Talek-Jei's finger, "laying down roots as deep the Hist which connects us both." Holding the ringed hands together, the couple put their clasped hands underneath Maramal's outstretched palms.

"May these rings be blessed by Mara's divine grace," the priest prayed as a golden light flowed from his hands into the two rings, "May they protect each of you in your new life together." Arthur led a cheer. The couple kissed.

The wedding entourage prepared to return to the Bee n' Barb when sunlight flooded the room. The temple doors flew open, smaking the wall behind them with a thundering crack. In stepped, seven former Riften guards. They wielded an assortment of battle axes and great swords. Their fur boots thudded across the floor as they barred the only exit. Arthur wondered how they could have gotten here. Maven had experience trouble subduing the Rift. Numerous pockets of resistance still remained.

"Dragonborn!" the apparent leader shouted, "you are a traitor to this people and this city. You must pay for your crimes." Arthur couldn't decide whether or not these men were incredibly brave or incredibly foolish.

"Cease this blasphemy at once!" Maramal cried out, "Mara is a goddess of love, and you would desecrate her temple by bringing violence through those doors." In response to the priests words, the seven men and women dressed in the purple tabards drew their weapons.

"The traitor has no place here priest," the same man cried, "he betrays the people of Skyrim for imperials and lizards. We shall deal justice to them all before the day's end." Arthur felt a familiar heat begin to rise through his body at the man's words. A rage, an indignation which could burn the whole temple to ash if came out as fire. No, he would spare this place, these friends of his. He would show them his displeasure, his wrath, and they would cower before him. How dare they rise to challenge him? To threaten his friends and their happiness? They would learn.

Arthur's metal boots brushed against the carpet going down the center aisle. He knew what he wanted to say and could feel the power rising, and he _spoke._

" _Faas-Ru-Maar!"_

His enemies cowered before him. The force of his thu'um stripped away their courage. Three of them fled immediately. Arthur strut forward his eyes narrowed into slits. Grabbing the Nord in front of him by the throat, he hefted the man into the air. "Never threaten my friends and I again. Leave this temple!" The other three fled. The only one remaining was the one Arthur continued to strangle.

"Please…" the man croaked weakly, "let me go…" Arthur began to grip the man's throat even harder before his chest felt a cold like the grave. His mother's amulet had frosted itself. He instantly let go, dropping the man. The man scrambled back as he gasped for air. Arthur turned his head away, not in disgust, but in self-loathing. His amulet warmed with his mother's comfort and pleasure. Yet, it chilled to match ice when she knew sorrow, grief, or disappointment. Mara delights in mercy, forgiveness, and love. While conceding to justice, she despised hate and needless domination. The shrine on the altar had lost its former glow.

"He's not going anywhere!" A feminine voice demanded, Arthur turned back toward the door once more to see Maven Blackbriar and a handful of imperial soldiers enter the door. The imperials put the rebel in chains, a look of fear still plastered on his face. Arthur groaned in frustration. "I apologize for not sending guards here sooner. I will deal with the captain. He should not have let this happen. It is a good thing you were here to stop them dragonborn." Arthur gave her cold look.

"You seem to be having trouble _controlling_ your people," Aela commented, "we've heard the Rift continues to support Ulfric despite shifting battle lines." Maven glared venomously at the Huntress, but Aela returned her gaze resolutely.

"I assure you, companion, that recent disturbances will prove short lived," the edge in her tone cut the conversation short. With a curt nod, Maven ordered the soldiers to take away their prisoner. Arthur watched as Maven strutted out of the temple. His heart roiled with regret and self-loathing. The storm inside kept him from appreciating the beautiful day outside. 

"Let's all head back to the Bee n' Barb to celebrate!" Talen-Jei announced, redirecting Arthur's attention.

Arthur sat again in his usual seat as those gathered with him celebrated. A surprising amount of people showed up to celebrate the couple's wedding (though, the free drinks may have had something to do with that). He gave a weak smile beneath his helmet as he heard Aela recount the pilgrimage they made to Ysgrimmor's tomb. While not a bard, the small group around her stood captivated. A few people would cast an awed glance at Arthur when she reached the end. She kept the fact that Kodlak wasn't the only werewolf from the tale, but the few Nords gathered cheered when they heard Kodlak made it to Sovrngard.

"I wanted to thank you," Talen-Jei said, appearing from behind, "for everything. The ring, your help today." Arthur waved him off. Smiling, Talen set another flagon of Velvet LaChance on the counter in front of him alongside a small purple bottle. It reminded him of the bottle Skooma dealers would sell Sleeping Tree Sap in. "Please take both, on me."

"What's in the bottle?" Arthur asked, his curiosity peaked.

"A gift few land-striders ever experience," Talen-Jei said, "I must warn you, though. You must not drink it unless you stand alone against your enemies. It will give you the strength you need to overcome them." Arthur cast a confused look at his friend. He trusted the newly wed argonian, but this didn't sit well with him.

"Very well," Arthur said, "just promise me you consider us even." Talen-Jei nodded. "Are you and Keerava ready to set out after the party?" The argonian nodded once more. "Then, I'll prepared the Relics for transport after I'm done with this drink."

Veezara stood crouched on the window sill examining the room before him. An ancient Nord great sword lay against the wall next to the bed. Upon the fur covered mattress lay a man in armor made from the same material. A black mask which glowed an eerie shade of orange sat on the nightstand next to him. The man sleeping before him was the dragonborn. He reached for his blade. Then a vision overtook him.

" _Rise shadow-scale," a voice boomed in the argonian's skull, "your people require your service again." Veezara found himself in an all-too-familiar swamp with a massive tree in the center. Little orange orbs extended from parts of its branches and bark. "You must not harm the man before you."_

" _After all this time," Veezara asked, anger simmering beneath the calm tone, "you finally choose to speak to me?" Not since the end of his order had he received a vision from the Hist Trees. Moreover, he had not consumed any sap in more than a decade._

" _The time is nigh for Argonians to help save Nirn," the Tree boomed, "the man you stand ready to kill lies at the center of the storm to come." Veezara grimaced. He had a contract to do and weeds better left in the past were interfering._

" _I've heard he has a knack for being in the center of things," he remarked sardonically._

" _DO NOT FOOL AROUND!" Veezara sank to his knees as his head pounded from the mental force of the Hist Tree's voice, "This world will be undone if you kill him. WE have foreseen it."_

" _Why should I care? Death comes to all," Veezara shrugged, "You ask me to turn away from my family, the only few who I still care about. To do that will be death, so why should I hasten to die, especially if it'll happen anyway?" Then an image of a smaller, lanky argonian resting by a snowy shore filled his eyes._

Tears filled his eyes as Veezara sank to his knees. Could another still be alive? _My family_ … With a sigh, Veezara released his grip on the hilt of his steel sword. Slowly, he left through the same window he entered. Arthur shifted, but never stirred.


	2. Chapter 2

_The ground sped past beneath her as she ran. He paws propelled her forth at inhuman speeds. The smell of the blood on her claws mingled with the smell of her own. The mixed odor urged her forward. Hunt. Kill. Consume._

Aela tossed and turned on her bed roll. Her eyes darting back and forth beneath her lids.

 _Her prey turned to face her, terror in its eyes. The stag shewed bravery and swiftness. It had wounded her and nearly got away, a worthy prey for a worthy huntress. She howled as the stag went from scared to resolute. It decided to make a last stand… a worthy prey indeed._

Fur started to extend from the small hairs across Aela´s body.

 _The stag charged, mimicking the attack which succeeded earlier. The huntress knew better this time. Dodging the attack, she banked low and shot up. Her teeth sank deep into its neck, its blood seeping into her maw. Her bloodlust spiked as she began to devour the stag. Before beginning her feast, she used a claw to pierce its heart, giving it a quick death._

Aela lay in the fetal position as fur covered her body and her form began to contort. Despite her change, the argonians lying in the tent next to her did not stir. Becoming conscious of the change, Aela hurled herself from the tent shredding it slightly. As her transformation reached its end, the huntress sprinted through the forest, gaining some distance before pausing. The moon was waning, but still she howled. She must hunt. The great Alpha beckoned her.

She caught sight of a great stag, much like the one from her dream. Yet, this one stood taller, stronger with and aura of regality about it. It stomped and beckoned her daring her to follow. She obliged. She gave chase. The hunt passed much like her dream, and her bloodlust finally subsided as she devoured the great beast, the real prey of greater worth then the dream. Aela walked about the glade she had finished her hunt in. She had lead her argonian companions through most of the rift. The trio had wearied themselves with the distance they covered. The next day would see them reach the western border of the Rift.

The werewolf sat back on her haunches for a moment, thinking. She shouldn´t leave her companions alone. Motioning to head back a great light arose from the carcass of the stag. At first, an ephemeral likeness of the stag appeared before her. It nodded at her in approval and dematerialized into a glowing mist as it shifted closer to her, hovering across the cool and shadowed forest glade. When the light took shape once more, the great Alpha stood before her.

" _Well done my child,"_ the great wolf before her spoke into her mind, nuzzling her as he did so, _"Of all my children, you are one of my greatest… my huntress…"_ He sat back on his own haunches examining his prized daughter.

" _My prince Hircine,_ " Aela said showing her neck submissively. Her heart pounded in her chest. She had rarely seen the daedric prince of the hunt since she and the companions had crossed him. The freed Kodlak´s spirit. Though weary of the hunt in his soul, Kodlak´s wolf spirit never waned. Its demise had angered the daedric prince. Compounding this, after all other companions had departed. The Dragonborn had severed his connection to the Lord of the Hunt. Aela had held some resentment towards Arthur herself for his decision, being his sire in the wolf blood. Yet, he lead the companions valiantly and lacked no battle prowess, possessing the soul of a dragon as he did. This lead her to be his shield sister. They had grown close through the journey to slay Alduin. This too irked the daedric prince. For all the trouble they had caused him, he had yet to act against them or call the great hunt.

" _My child, do you know why I beckoned you this evening? The moon is not even full,_ " The great white wolf before her cocked his head in feigned curiosity, " _I don´t need to explain the gravity of your wayward brother´s actions do I? I want my dragon._ " The last words were said through bared teeth, and Aela swallowed deep.

" _I cannot speak for him,_ " Aela thought respectfully, continuing her display of submission, " _I've offered him the beast blood once more, but he has always rejected it._ " Hircine growled causing Aela to tense up. The great wolf let out a sigh.

" _It is good you remember who is in charge, but do not be afraid. You are my prized huntress,_ " The great wolf stood and walked to the opposite side of the glade, " _The worst I would do is call you to hunt him._ " Aela´s heart seemed to stop. " _Oh, don´t worry, he wouldn´t die. I would turn him and oversee his transformations directly._ "

" _When will I see you next, my prince?_ " Aela hoped to see how close to that decision her prince was.

" _Soon,_ " then with a howl to pierce the night, the daedric prince Hircine vanished in a cloud of white mist. The tension passed and the bloodlust diminished, Aela released herself from the beast. She could feel her body change. The hair receded from her body as it restored itself to humanity. Her trek back to camp did not take long.

She surveyed the camp with a sigh of relief. Both Argonians slumbered peacefully as when she had left. She mentally noted to scold Talen-Jei about his responsibility when keep watch. That was for tomorrow though, she would keep the remainder of the watch tonight. Already the night had faded to twilight.

As she sat alone, she thought about Arthur. His ability to anger daedric princes _scared_ her. He spurned the gift, nay, the affection of Hircine. She surprised herself by the word choice, but it was fitting. The Lord of the Hunt relished in what are had become. Yet, after slaying his own wolf-spirit. He lead the companions on a quest through the ancient world of the Dwemer. He created for himself a crown to make him blind to the Lords of Oblivion and resistant to their touch. During that quest, he managed to anger both Namira and Molag Bol. He should be a dead man walking.

She chuckled humorlessly to herself. He was more than a man. He'd been to Sovrngarde and back. He mulled over those memories until the sun rose on the horizon's edge. The brilliant colors of the dawn played into her reminiscing, reminding her of the bright lights which illuminated the immoral landscape of the Nord paradise. She came to understand when Kodlak had long to dwell there. She remembers being barred from the Halls of Valor. Belonging to Hircine, she waited until her shield-brother emerged from Shor's Halls with heroes of old. He lived up to the legend. Sunlight now illuminated the entire glade, and Aela rose to her feet. Time to get the group moving.

Merlin walked in the dim underworld of the lost Dwemer, Blackreach. His quarry should be within the Silent City. The chase was nearly over. Around him, tall luminescent mushrooms provided sufficient light for the path added to the still functioning street lamps of the dwemer. He paused and looked at one. Should Camlorn rise, he had no doubt his king-to-be would permit research into dwemer technology to enrich his future kingdom. Merlin sighed. So, much work to do before the dawn.

His trek was over. Before him, a ramp led up into one of the few pristine remaining dwemer cities. He took in the site. A wall encompassed the city round about. Towers soared up from different areas in the city, but the greatest attraction came from what he dubbed the Sun Orb. It filled much of the surrounding area with a dull orange light that flooded the city before him. He leaned on his staff, the Azura's Rod. A gift from the goddess he served as a youth, it would be his instrument to avert the catastrophe before it began. Arthur would end the Civil War, and he would prevent the Third Wave. At least, that was the plan. The last two had been orchestrated by only one party, but now they arrayed themselves against half of Oblivion. Mortals defying gods of change and chaos. Surely, bards would sing of their deeds throughout the golden era. Should they succeed.

Merlin stroked his slim black beard, breaking his reverie. A small mustache adorned his azure face, and his black eyes. He entered the long dead city of his people. He wandered the streets marveling at the large structures. Suddenly, falmer set upon him. Thankfully, they had no archers. Merlin cast a mage armor spell as he mentally berated himself for his foolishness. Darting back from the advancing enemies, he summoned two storm atronachs. These golems of lightening and stone halted his advancing foes. Summoning a bound blade, Merlin joined them in the fray. The malformed creatures fell before them. Merlin glanced up to see a falmer spellcaster point his chitin staff at him. Dropping his conjured sword, Merlin cast a ward. Steadfast, his shield kept the thunderbolt a bay. Charging his own staff, the lighting which had assaulted his shield jumped to the grand soul gem atop Azura's Rod. Eventually, the falmer stopped his magical assault and cast a ward as Merlin returned the spell with twice the force. The force was great enough to give a small rumble of thunder which echoed across the underground realm. The falmer's ward broke, and the Merlin's spell left only a pile of ash.

"So much for secrecy," Merlin said with a sigh. Soon, every falmer in this dark world would charge him, unless he scared them off. Such was the decision of the remaining falmer, but they'd likely return soon with greater numbers. "Let's be quick about it then." He cast a detect life spell, only to find nothing. Altering the exact nature of it, he cast a detect magic spell aiming it at the staff. He had begun charging it again after the first spell failed, and when he unleashed it he could immediately sense the strong _daedric_ magic coming from the debate hall. He hurried toward the large structure.

Merlin opened the massive dwemer doors. Pale light greeted him from the archaic lanterns, accompanied by the hissing of steam. He scanned around the room. Around a ledge, rows of stone benches were covered in blood, bodies, and…cheese. He nearly vomited, refraining. His eyes darted looking for his quarry. His eyes settled upon a man sitting smug on the ledge near a back corner. Besire him, the staffs of terrible power orbited an orb of light: the Skull of Vermina, the Sanguine Rose, and the Wabbajack.

"You truly are persistent, you know?" the nord mocked, "It's getting really annoying." Not waiting for another word, Merlin charged the strongest lighting spell he had while prepping his staff. "Wow, you're—" The man dodged the massive lightning bolt which would've incinerated him. The bolt hit the stone behind him and left it charred and smoking from the heat. "…impatient. If that how you want to be," the man brought up the Sanguine Rose and summoned a draemora. With a two handed sword, it charged him. With a stone-skin spell, Merlin endured the blows, summoning a bound blade to return blows with the oblivion spawn.

Surprisingly, Merlin managed to dispatch his enemy, but in the final blow, he saw a bolt of violet light strike him. He felt no pain, but he felt something _leap_ out of him. Turning from the fallen demon, Merlin saw a shade of himself. It even carried a ghostly version of Azura's Rod. He silently cursed. He summoned a bound blade and quickly moved to end the threat, lunging forward. The shade summoned a ward and reinforced it with his staff. The blade bounced off the magical wall. Despite the shield, Merlin stayed close. Altering the spell from a ward to a magical wall, the shade put distance between itself and Merlin. The true mage shrugged off the pain which afflicted his body and he pushed through the magical barrier. Reacting quickly, Merlin threw up his strongest ward, not having time to amplify it with his staff.

A surge of lightning shattered his ward and tore threw him. He yelled as the magical spell left him with several burns. Despite the pain, Merlin pulled out steel dagger he had at his side, jumping up at the shade. Putting a ward in front of itself, it stopped merlin inches away from its face. Reaching around the side beyond the ward, Merlin plunged the dagger into the back of the magical construct. The shade rapidly dissolved.

With a sigh of premature relief, a flash of violet burst to his right, and Merlin felt something soft where his staff should've been. He looked at his staff of cheese in dismay. The Mage of Madness charged up the Wabbajak once more aiming it directly at Merlin, but the half-deep elf opened a portal to the surface. As he stepped through, the an explosion of pots and pans propelled him forward. Stumbling he fell to his face before a trio, exhausted and now unconscious.

Aela was having a hard time believing what she had seen. Stopping the group abruptly at the sight of a portal, an elf unlike she had ever seen stumble through preceding an explosion. A cup had annoyingly bounced off her helmet. She eyes the stranger over. He looked exhausted and had a couple of burns. The simple black robes he wore had several tears. The oddest thing of all was the staff he carried. It was made of cheese. Whatever kind of cheese it might be, it looked very unappetizing lying in the dirt like it was. They sat the elf up and laid his odd staff against the tree behind him.

"What should we do with him, land-strider?" Talen-jei asked.

"Well, the days is late. If we change course now we could stop at a village nearby," Alea responded. "We'll take him with us." Aela surprised herself with these last words. She had to keep these two safe and get them to White Run as soon as possible, but something moved her heart to compassion. She pondered if this was Arthur's influence or perhaps Mara cast her motherly eyes up on the elf.

The sun had long since slipped behind the Throat of the World as Ivarstead came into view. The odd bunch (a weird elf, two argonians, and a nord) received wary and distrustful looks from the town person. Yet, they recognized Aela the Huntress. While infuriated with Arthur's decision at the war council preceding Alduin's demise, they nonetheless respected (feared) this legendary member of the Companions. Their group would enjoy their stay here unmolested.

They settled down for the night in two rooms at the local inn. The Argonians shared one, while Aela took the other with the elf. He remained unconscious. Aela had claimed the bed opposite to him, listening to his steady breathing. She enjoyed the soft bed beneath her, but she dreaded the night to come. When had that happened? She used to enjoy the dream of the hunt. She was the Huntress after all…was. Arthur, damn you! She thought to herself exasperated. Releasing a sigh, her blood ran cold.

"Arthur," the unconscious elf practically groaned, "I'm sorry. I…I failed." The elf fell silent again. Aela sat up and eyes the stranger with deep suspicion. Then, far in the distance a great wolf howled.


	3. Chapter 3

The story is abandoned until I choose to return.


End file.
